Home Is Wherever You Are

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It feels good to be home from my trip.

It was the first time I had travelled solo since belonging to the ‘walk with support’ club.

I watched myself truly shine as I negotiated wheelchairs at each transfer; to car to chair to plane to chair to regular chair (wait for the delayed plane and wait some more) to wheelchair to plane to wheelchair to cab to fabulous hotel.

I became the extroverted Cathy I think I almost lost.

Even in my weakness and exhaustion, I somehow pulled it together to engage with people I made lasting friendships with.

The shuttle driver from airport to hotel was an older gentleman who had a wisdom and open-heartedness about him I was drawn to. I began a conversation during which he told me of his daughter with MS and wife who had passed away a few years ago whom he visits daily at her grave.

He wanted to tell those stories and I wanted to tell mine.

I wanted to listen and so, apparently, did he.

And from there a thread of recognition and care extended throughout the week as he checked on me daily at the concierge to see if I needed anything.

My activities for my week in Colorado consisted of seeing the Dr. twice each day for an hour long treatment (more about this later), then back to the hotel to sleep or eat then get up the next day and do it again.

I did not rent a car as the hotel was close to the clinic so I spent a good deal of time in cabs.

The first two drivers were intent on asphyxiating me with pine-scent and converting me to their brand of Christianity.

I have nothing against Christianity, mind you…

The third man was Michael.

I hope to never lose contact with him.

He picked me up on time 4 times a day as I came and went to my appointments.

We slipped into an easy, extended conversation about life and family and thriving in a screwed up world and frailty and strength and the power of women (adores his wife and has 4 girls).

We became pretty transparent to one another during the incessant to-and-fro from Dr. to hotel.

Then there were Patrick and Lydia and Rob and Pat and the ladies in the Denver airport waiting with me and holding the plane which had just changed gates and now would depart in 10 minutes across the airport and my wheelchair was nowhere in sight..

What I learned about myself during this week away from all things familiar is a new kind of trust in my ability to distinguish where I want to put my energy and how much without ever losing track of myself.

I built a number of solid, mutually beneficial relationships in a short period of time and they each enhanced my well being multifold.

I witnessed the ease with which doors opened in every direction and I saw that the thing that felt like a bubble of GRACE was a bubble I had blown myself by showing up as authentic and true.

No hiding.

Willing to be seen.

There are certainly risks inherent in this way of being.

But what’s the worst that can happen?

I found myself unafraid and shiny with the confidence of a woman who doesn’t know much beyond what real and precious LIFE feels like when in it’s presence..

…and the flip side of pretense, veiled disappointment and black holes of needs unmet.

I saw that I could acknowledge all of it and choose intuitively the paths that led me toward vitality and an open heart.

These are the gifts of moving away from familiar territory; finding a self you may not have noticed was growing and preening and waiting to be noticed standing right beside you all this time..